Rumors and Misinformation
by Supreme Distraction
Summary: The Asari race and its practices were plagued by rumors and misinformation, Liara had once said. Shepard was curious to find out more-first hand.
1. Prologue

Well, hello. This one has been a long time coming, methinks. I'm back-ish again because you can't keep **Supreme Distraction** down! Tee hee. On a more serious note, I'll be working on this 100th fic (woo!) on and off while I post one shots and various pairing requests that I've let pile up.

I hope you folks look forward to it and thanks for your patience.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the Mass Effect games, off of which this fiction piece is based. Thank you, **GrimGrave,** you're a peach.

Without further ado, here's my short, sweet introduction to—

 **Rumors and Misinformation – Prologue –**

The Normandy's crew was tired and battered, but victorious.

Commander Mei Shepard peeled out of her armor, wincing as the motion exacerbated her still healing rib. She examined herself in the mirror, frowning at the purpling bruise that stained pale skin.

 _'Should have gone_ _with the heavy armor.'_

She showered quickly then rummaged through her medicine cabinet, pulling from it some rolls of gauze and antiseptic spray. The resident doctor would chastise her for not having it properly treated, but it would do for now.

Navigation was abuzz with activity as the crew coordinated their next destination and she quickly crossed the floor, keeping her head down so as to avoid getting stopped.

Kaidan and Ashley were sitting in the mess hall, unwinding over a cup of coffee. Ashley was regaling him with their rather exciting latest adventure.

She'd been invaluable during the last mission; she smiled and waved when she noticed the other woman.

The Turian warrior, Garrus, was at his usual post in the gun battery and he grunted in greeting, but didn't shift his attention from his calibrations. "Glad you made it back in one piece, Commander."

He had been hard at work trying to reconfigure the Normandy's defenses and hadn't deployed with them.

The Krogan mercenary, Wrex, was cleaning blood and motor oil from his weapons, a scowl furrowing his brow. He was still wearing his armor, which bore scorch marks, and he muttered wrathfully to himself.

He'd been particularly aggressive of late. She made a note to talk to him later, though she didn't hope to make any headway.

The Commander squared her shoulders and rolled her neck, fatigue making her movements sluggish. She had just one more stop before she could retreat to her room.

* * *

The Asari scientist, Liara, had already returned to her study. She felt as though she'd been gone for months rather than days and the familiar organized chaos of her books and research notes put her at ease.

When Shepard entered the room, she looked up and smiled, chuckling inwardly when the other woman averted her gaze and nodded. The Commander, the first human Spectre and would-be saviour of the galaxy, wasn't the most social of creatures.

Liara returned her attention to the tabloid she'd been reading—one of the few that had yet to go paperless—and frowned. "This isn't good at all…"

Shepherd cocked an eyebrow. "Is everything okay?"

"There's someone in the Citadel I'd like to see. A scientist whose research I've been following. I know you have plans, but it would only take a moment."

It would do them all good to take a breather…

"Fine."

It would do them all good to take a breather, but the bright smile that graced Liara's features was by far the best reason.


	2. The Commanding Officer is Aboard

I'm not sure how you folks want to do this. Would it be better if I posted chapters as they're ready or in pairs like this? At the moment, I believe they'll remain on the short side (comparative to my usual 2k-3k length). Let me know!

Also, Dr. Andromeda has no relation. Just saying. I started writing this before the game had even been announced, oddly enough.

 **The Commanding Officer is Aboard  
**

"Query: What did you bring me today, Commander?" The Elcor blinked large, sleepy eyes, peering down at the woman with an expression that was difficult to read given that the lower half of its face resembled the gills of a fish. The way the slats fidgeted while they spoke had alarmed her at one point.

"Just a few trinkets."

He nodded slowly. "Understanding. You've been busy."

She unloaded whatever strange but otherwise useless knick knacks she had collected, keeping a sharp eye on her companions. She had a bad habit of never lowering her guard, according to Dr. Michel, and while that may very well be the death of her someday, the habit would help her keep others safe at the least.

The Quarian girl, Tali, seemed to have found a gun that she liked—a sniper rifle–if the way she peered down the length of the barrel through the darkened visor that covered her face was anything to go by. Liara was speaking with a squat Volus salesman. He didn't seem too keen to make the sale, waving his stumpy arms expansively as if to deflect the sharp jabs of her fingertips alternating between his wares and the upper deck. Something hot and protective spiked beneath her breast and she quickly thanked the Elcor companion, interrupting whatever he had been saying in favor of hustling over to her crew members.

The thin smile that curved her lips felt synthetic—a mask that didn't quite fit—and the Volus took a step back, though he didn't release his protective hold on the weapon he had wrested from Tali's grip.

"What's going on here?"

"Commander." The Quarian's tone was grateful. "We were just-"

"This man is refusing us service!"

"Would you like to explain on what basis?"

The Volus stared but said nothing, the filtration device embedded in the gas mask he wore, producing a faint, laborious wheeze of air.

"Is there a problem here or not?" Shepard's no-nonsense tone seemed to snap the Volus out of his stupor, because he swiftly shook his head.

"Excellent. We'll be taking that gun and anything else my Quarian companion would like." She stared him down, that small hard smile firmly in place until he had gathered up what she had requested.

* * *

"Bigot."

They were bound for The Wards—the sleazy underbelly of the Citadel, but also the best place to gather information. Word spread after all and if anyone had heard rumor of a giant hunk of a still intact Prothean ruin, word would've settled here.

Part of Shepard wished Liara had gone back to the Normandy, but the Asari had insisted that it was vitally important to her work that she gathered the information herself. Still... It was nice to see the blue skinned alien excited about something.

"You can't let it get to you."

Every known race in the galaxy had faced persecution of some sort during the shaky first few years. The federation was organization itself. Folks seem to forget that.

They passed cluttered vendor stands, selling anything from biological enhancements to weaponry; from the Salarians who sold their wares from trenchcoats; a Hanar who spread the good word of the Enkindlers; disheveled humans sorting through discarded parts for something worth salvaging; Krogan mercenaries offering their services to anyone who had enough credits; a squat dilapidated building into which a steady stream of disreputable characters disappeared at all hours; a drunk Turian passed out directly across their path, already stripped of his valuables; and piles upon piles of rusting mechanical waste.

The duo had arrived at the very heart of The Wards, when they were greeted by a holographic advertisement board, pointing the way to "an emporium of pleasures of the flesh at the best prices of the galaxy". She stepped closer to Liara, resting her hand on the scientist's shoulder as she averted her gaze from a half-naked human woman and the Volus that held her leash.

They moved inward and upward, across a collection of catwalks that creaked eerily beneath their feet. Despite the number of individuals they could see creeping about below, this sector was strangely quiet. It was as if everyone was pretending they were elsewhere, unwilling to even meet the eye of the people around them—an unspoken truce of secrecy. Shepard was so lost in her musings that she flinched when Liara grabbed her arm, her trigger finger twitching instinctively.

"Isn't that…?"

A dignified looking Turian, still recognizable due to the stark white markings on his mandibles despite the fact that civilian clothes replaced his C-Sec armor, was being led into a dome-shaped building by a buxom Asari woman. When the door shut behind them a cloaking hologram hummed, projecting the image of an innocuous dumpster that would presumably remain in place until the couple had finished doing whatever they were doing.

The woman made a mental note to harass the pompous lizard when she next saw him at C-Sec as she swallowed a snort of laughter.

They continued west, over a stream of gently glowing sewage, until they came to a thin rectangular building that resembled a defensive fortification than anything. Signage warning off intruders was spread out all over the doorway, and when Shepard reached out to ring the buzzer, the howl of something horrifying resounded from its innards. Liara and Shepard exchanged looks, uncertainty in their gazes, but when the door opened it was a well-dressed Salarian who greeted them and not some monstrous creature.

"You must be Liara," he said before either woman could think to introduce themselves. He peered at her intently from behind spectacles that made his eyes seem half their size. "Please-come in, come in!"

* * *

Doctor Arceneal Andromeda had once had a full staff working with him in a high tech laboratory in the upper levels, but a clash of ideals had resulted in a swift and career destroying demotion. A collection of articles wallpapered the entryway:

' _Crackpot scientist escorted out of B-22 Labs'_ read one tabloid.

' _Renowned researcher cracks under pressure?' '_ read another.

A final tabloid showed a Salarian in a lab coat over which an angry red 'X' had been drawn.

Shepard had looked up to find that Liara and their host had already moved on to the next room and hastened followed. By the time she had joined them, Andromeda and Liara were sitting in a cluttered parlour and a stocky server bot was dispensing refreshments.

While he and Liara chatted science and archeology, Shepard poked around the front room of his laboratory—a spacious area lined with bookshelves, though they seemed to be more of decoration than anything if the piles of books on the desks and floors were anything to go by. She stepped through a holographic drawing of a cross section of some strange many legged beast and crossed to the back of the room where a single hallway lead further into the building's innards. These walls were covered in newspaper articles, sketches, a few mostly faded paintings, and a collection of awards—none of which were recent. The server bot beeped questioningly and she waved away the proffered mug, curiosity enticing her to step forward. The corridor was noticeably cooler than the room behind her and it only ran a short distance to the left where a solid metal door loomed.

She held her breath listening hard: a quiet mechanical clicking could be heard and it was a strangely familiar sound. Before she could place it, a commotion from the sitting room caught her attention and she whirled, her hand already bend backwards at the elbow to access the miniature weapon cache strapped to her back. But it was only the serving bot, which was scrambling to pick up a tray of snacks. Its master didn't even seem to notice as engrossed in his conversation as he was.

Shepard moved to join them, but not before casting one last glance at the mysterious door.

"Fascinating…" Liara sounded breathless—as though she had forgotten to inhale in her excitement.

"Quite. And what's doubly exciting is the frequency with which the traces of these signals can be found."

"Could that just be coincidence?"

Shepard smiled to herself as she leaned against the wall next to a window overlooking the radioactive stream. She knew full well that the Asari's careful composure was an act. Liara was already a million light years away mentally, puzzling out the how and why.

"Nonsense." Andromeda's beady eyes shone behind his spectacles. "This is a clear indication that the living remnant has been running on backup energy. It can only muster up its reserves after reaching a threshold. And let's face it, solar energy is so very primitive."

Shepard stifled a yawn. Outside she could just barely make out a couple of street urchins picking the pockets of a man sleeping on a bench. They took off running when the man stirred, awoken by the far-off wail of a siren. It would never get any closer than that either. The slums might has well have been on another planet.

"...By studying the data I have been gathering over the last decade, I've managed to come up with a viable location where the remnant is, desperately trying to maintain its final reserves and sending out distress signals."

Ten years seems like a stretch for something to run on backup reserves-even something as advanced as Prothean. As if reading her thoughts, Liara said just that.

"Nonsense!" Andromeda insisted again.

Shepard's mind wandered as the two began to argue logistics. It was another hour before the good doctor even procured a star map and by that time the commander of the Normandy had already eaten 3 snack cakes and was starting on a 4th despite their rather bland appearance and unusual texture, she found the taste to be quite agreeable. She stretched her feet out, having sat down some time ago after realizing that this visit wouldn't be ending anytime soon and cleared her throat.

"This visit has been lovely, doctor, but we really must be going." The sharp look she received from Liara made her shrug apologetically, but she stood and approached the Salarian, taking his hand and shaking it firmly.

"It was a pleasure. Really. Thank you for your time."

Then she made her getaway and Liara had no choice but to follow.

* * *

"Commander."

"Welcome back, Commander."

"Greetings, Commander."

Shepard returned their salutes duly more out of habit than anything. She and Liara made a beeline for navigation, where the woman plopped down in the nearest available seat, impossibly weary. That house call had been far too social for her liking.

Liara stood over her, the device that held prospective star map clutched to her chest.

"Commander," she asked softly.

They had a galaxy to save. Allowing Liara to pursue her scientific interests on her own time was one thing, but letting her disrupt the Normandy's path was out of the question.

She opened her mouth to say as much, but hesitated. The Delta Draconis System wasn't too far from their current destination. It couldn't hurt to look and would appeal the Asari's inquisitive mind-if only for a little while.

With a sigh, Shepard commanded, "Presley, set a course."


	3. In a Junkyard Far, Far Away

Howdy, folks, and happy holidays! I apologize for the delay, but the next chapter will be up shortly after Christmas. Cheers!

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Except my beta, GrimGrave. Tee hee.

 **A Scrapyard Far, Far Away**

Dr. Chloe Mitchell was a no-nonsense woman who looked to be in her late 30s. She served as the doctor for everyone aboard the Normandy no matter their species or affiliation.

Liara preferred her company over all others. Well...almost all.

"What's on your mind, Liara? It's unusual for you to be so quiet."

She lowered the book she had been unsuccessfully attempting to read, "...How do you mean?"

"Well if you're in here that means you don't want to be cooped up in your lab. Alone." The woman smiled, but didn't look up from the medical records on her desk. "Wrex has been complaining about aches and pains, but then refuses to remain on bed rest. I'll never understand stubborn patients."

"That one won't rest until he's dead," Liara agreed. "It would be easier to ask the Commander to leave him behind come dispatch."

At that, the woman looked up, one eyebrow raised. "Simple, but effective. Would you mind?"

"Sure…" Though it seemed odd that she couldn't just ask herself.

"Now what about you?"

"Mm?" She flipped through dog eared pages absentmindedly.

"You're here for advice, are you not? And I doubt it's medical."

"The Commander and I met a scientist in the slums today."

"Certainly not the strangest thing you've ever done since joining her crew."

"Well, no. He gave us reason to believe that we could find Prothean remnant in a distant galaxy."

"And I'm assuming that galaxy isn't on the universe saving itinerary."

She shook her head.

"Were you looking to slip off on your own then?" Michel was suddenly a flurry of activity. "I know I have some extra supplies somewhere…"

"That won't be necessary," Liara said quickly.

"Oh?" The doctor returned to her seat, threading her fingers together. "Yes, of course… I should have known she'd let you have your way."

"Meaning?"

The question was dismissed with a wave. "Aren't you due for a medical exam?"

"Erm-"

"Come on then." She patted the top of her examination table, staring Liara down until the Asari reluctantly came over. "Say 'ah'."

Liara obediently opened her mouth.

"You aren't experiencing any more of the "discomfort" we spoke about last time, are you?"

A faint nod.

"Hm…" Dr. Michel procured a stethoscope, pressing it square between Liara's breasts. She listened intently for a moment before sliding lower, her knuckles inadvertently brushing against the curve of a jumpsuit-covered breast.

"Um…"

"Sounds good." A sudden flash of light made the Asari blink, but she obediently followed the flashlight with her eyes. "Have you been sleeping?"

"Somewhat."

"It seems you have a lot of excess energy to burn."

"..." When a cool hand touched the side of her neck, Liara recoiled, her heartbeat accelerating ever so slightly.

"You're a little hot. Are you sure you don't want to pay a visit to the Consort Chambers-?"

"Absolutely not."

"I just think that your oversensitivity to touch may prove to be… detrimental in the future."

"I'm fine."

With a sigh, Dr. Michel leaned in close, situating herself between the legs and effectively trapping her in place. She moved with a deliberate slowness to trace her fingertips along the sides of her face, a motion that made the blue skinned woman bite her lip to stifle a pleased sound. Their eyes met then, the doctor smirked, her point proven, and stepped back. "For how long, I wonder?"

* * *

"Commander?"

She spared Liara a glance. "What?"

"Delta Draconis is riddled with asteroid fields and subject to meteorite showers. It would be better to get ahold of a smaller, more agile craft."

The woman looked thoughtful. "I have a place in mind."

…

"Watch your step," Shepard's voice said from somewhere in the darkness that yawned suddenly before her. The lights built into her suit flickered on, and though they did little to dispel the inky murk, she could make out the faint outline of a bulky object on the horizon.

A strong, steady hand gripped Liara's shoulder, propelling her forward, and it was in the fashion that the duo made their way towards the faint light source. Whatever was beneath their feet wasn't contiguous surface and she had to concentrate on her footing, lest she stumble again.

The object was actually a sizeable asteroid, Liara realized as they clambered to the top of it, and the light on the other side seemed to be a miniature sun confined within a dome-shaped apparatus. Thick chains linked it to larger asteroids like the one they stood on and it bobbed like a buoy at sea, the unnatural paleness of the light it gave off, illuminating a group of Volus who were picking over glittering metal objects mixed into the debris of the planetary rings system.

Sparks flew as one of the laborers used a heavily modified welding torch to dislodge a hunk of metal, a discovery that caused a few of his compatriots to float over to him, the backs of their jet packs tethered to the dome.

Are you sure we're in the right place?

Shepard pointed to a haphazard metal sign that read "scrapyard" and began her descent.

...

They made their way to the Volus who seemed to be in charge, if his sharp gesturing was anything to go by, and when Shepard asked about a ship he jabbed two fingers towards her and then towards a tarp covered mass some distance behind him. Liara realized with a twinge of disgust that those were his _only_ fingers.

All around them, the rest of the crew seemed oblivious as they worked dutifully to collect bits and bobs that had presumably ended up here, remnants of crashed ships and waste from the planet below. Even smaller and more dilapidated objects were added to a bin; there were three in all and each seemed to have its own designated content type.

The Asari's gaze wandered back to her companion: despite her petite stature, Shepard was nearly twice the height of the Volus she was speaking to and her air of command was unmistakable. Liara couldn't see the woman's face, but she knew that sharp almond-shaped eyes were narrowed and full lips were pursed behind the curve of her visor.

Finally, the pair reached an agreement and Shepard turned her head, prompting an amused smile as she revealed the exact expression Liara had been imagining.

(...what?)

(Nothing.) The Asari said quickly adopting a more neutral expression. (Now that that's out of the way, shall we?)

The Volus removes the tarp with a flourish. Beneath it was indeed a pair of rather crude crafts, the larger -and that was being generous- of which was a teardrop shape, its rounded cockpit supported by three sets of mechanical legs that resembled spiders.

(Tell me about this one.)

The Volus grunted, (Single person craft, best suited for short trips. Engine-) He jabbed his maimed hand towards the top of the craft. (-Connected directly to the wings, which gives you at least 10 lights years over any other ship in the galaxy of this size.)

Upon closer inspection, there were indeed two wings that retracted neatly into the sides of the craft. Liara ran her fingers along its chassis, dislodging flakes of dirt and rust. (And inside?)

He huffed impatiently, but waddled forward and gave the ship a solid kick; the cockpit windshield lifted begrudgingly to reveal-

(...Are those claw marks?)

(Do you want the craft or not?)

Liara reached inside, gingerly feeling for the controls, and a moment later the engine engaged, several lights and dials confirming that the ship could still fly despite its shabby appearance.

(We'll take it.)

* * *

"What the hell is that hunk of junk?"

Liara wiped sweat from her brow with her forearm. "It's for my research… And it's not junk."

"Right." He watched for a moment as she struggled to reach the wrench that had clattered out of her grip. "Does the boss lady know you've taken up mechanic work?"

"If you're just going to run your mouth, leave." The duo started and Shepard stooped to retrieve the tool. She nodded curtly in response to the grateful smile she received and rounded on Joker. "Otherwise, make yourself useful."

He cleared his throat and hobbled over. Then, with expert hands, he slid open a panel to expose the ship's innards. "You got pliers over there?"

They worked in companionable silence until Joker complained about aches and pains and Shepard went with him to the medical bay.

She really was a kind woman - despite her sternness, Liara mused. The Asari paused in her tinkering and got to her feet, realizing belatedly that she had spent all evening with this project and had forgotten to eat when her stomach released a howl. Something cold pressed into the side of her neck and she yelped, wheeling around -

"You looked like you could use this." There was an amused light in dark eyes.

In her outstretched hand was a can of a nutritional supplement that could replace entire meals, which Liara accepted gratefully.

Kind Indeed.

Shepard cracked open her own beverage and sat down next to Liara on the workbench and the pair sipped, the quiet footfalls of the ship's occupants echoing off the walls. Liara fidgeted, glancing at her companion but the woman seemed content just sitting and sipping.

She wasn't much of a conversationalist and she had said as much the day they'd met, but that just made Liara want to get her to talk more.

"We could probably finish this tonight."

"You should get some rest."

The Asari pouted slightly, her disdain for giving up on task before it was complete, overriding her composure. "Please?"

The other woman shook her head. "I'm not tired in the slightest. I'll be fine."

Shepard's expression was more unreadable than usual, if that was possible, but her shoulders sagged and she shook her head again, silently acquiescing.

Beaming delightedly, Liara jumped to her feet, but the expression melted as the room took a dizzying spin and she stumbled and would have fallen had Shepard not moved quickly to support her. This newfound proximity made the scientist's head spin for an entirely different reason and she tensed mightily as the inviting warmth of another's body sank into her.

It prompted a curious...warmth of her own and the Asari's heart rate quickened.

"Are you okay?" Shepard's voice sounded as though it was being filtered through a staticky comm link. "Liara."

A hand cupped the side of her face, forcing her gaze to meet the Commander's and Liara's vision because a kaleidoscope of colors, her arms moving of their own volition to encircle Shepard's neck.

"Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her," that far -ff voice chanted, though Shepard's full lips, poised oh-so close, weren't moving.

With Herculean effort, Liara tore her gaze away. "Commander…" Breathy and foreign. Dark eyes widened and Liara cleared her throat, managing in a more level tone. "I'm...fine."

"I'm taking you to Dr. Michel."

The Asari didn't have it in her to argue.

...

"I hate to say 'I told you so…'"

"Then don't."

Dr. Michel sighed, but didn't pursue it, instead going back to her desk and returning to her work. The Asari rolled onto her side and curled into a ball and a silence stretched between them.

The Normandy pushed onward while its crew—though a little worse for wear—rested, its innards unusually quiet.

Liara, after being dispatched by a disapproving Michel, found that she was unable to join her comrades in dreamland yet again, her body taut with pent-up energy. She had given up pacing over an hour ago and the words had blurred together on the page before she had given up on reading as well. Now she tossed and turned in a futile attempt to get comfortable—a task made impossible by a building pressure in her temples.

With a groan, the woman threw her legs over the side of her bed to stand on the blanket she had thrown aside in her frustration. She didn't have a destination in mind as she let herself out into the hallway.


	4. Planetary Roulette

Happy New Year!

No **GrimGrave** this time around. I hope my mistakes aren't too numerous. Ahem. Better late than never… right? And **Ulcassi** , doll, I'm not ignoring you! It's all part of my grand scheme.

Onwards!

 **Planetary Roulette**

 _Shepard shuddered as warm, talented fingers danced along the curve of her spine, applying pressure just so and reducing her to a pile goo. She moaned happily, lifting her hips as those hand skirted around her buttocks and down the backs of her thighs._

 _The warmth disappeared, but her whimper of protest died in her throat as the length of a curvaceous form blanketed over her; breasts to shoulder blades, rear to pelvis. Shepard shivered mightily as lips brushed against the shell of her ear, and fingers threaded between hers, pinning her in a vulnerable position that wasn't entirely disagreeable._

 _The woman above her whispered something inaudible, a tongue flicking against the Shepard's earlobe, and her hips twitched, the v between her legs throbbing hotly. A thigh nudged them apart, pressing into their junction and she_ _pushed_ _her hips back eagerly, that split second of friction leaving her aching for more—_

"Commander?" A sharp knock dragged Shepard halfway out of her dream, but she clung to the fading vestiges of pleasure, screwing her eyes shut.

 _Her right hand was released and, a moment later, nails dug into her hip—_

A second bout of knocking, more urgent than the first, forced her to roll of bed with wrathful growl. She slammed her hand on the reader next to the door and it slid open with a pneumatic hiss.

Her ire faded considerable at the sight of Liara's wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Still, the lingering pleasure from her dream clashed with the painful reality of her battle weary body and made her gruffer than intended. " _What_?"

"Is... Is everything okay? I heard you crying out."

 _Fuck's sake_. Shepard dragged a hand through her hair. "Why are you walking around at this hour?"

Liara cleared her throat, but that wide-eyed stare didn't waver ...Why was she looking at her like that? "I was just… I couldn't sleep."

Shepard stepped aside, shaking her head at her own foolishness. "You can come in if you want."

…

Shepard grunted, her abdominal muscles straining as she finished her rep. Liara had fallen asleep not too long ago and her presence in the room had made it difficult to go back to sleep. Instead, she had gone down to the gym to work out some of the residual frustration from her dream. The woman dismounted carefully from her upside-down position, landing in a crouch and wiping her face with a conveniently place towel.

What had that dream been all about anyway? She hadn't had one of _those_ kind of dreams since she'd been a teenager.

Shepard stole quietly into the galley and liberated a couple of apples and a ration bar, making a mental note that they were low on supplies as she headed back to her room. Liara was still curled into a ball, her side rising and falling slowly, but the pillow squeezed between her thighs hadn't been there before.

Shepard wasn't sure how she felt about that.

She cleared her throat, torn between wanting to rid herself of her uninvited guest and wanting to let the obviously fatigued woman rest. In the end, her bleeding heart won out and she placed the rations she had gathered on the desk beside her bed before turning to enter the small washroom located to the rear of the room.

The captain's quarters was the only room in the Normandy with its own bathroom and she relished in the privacy it allowed—regardless of tight quarters.

She released a sigh as she stepped under the cold. _The day has just begun._

Her side smarted when she ran the bar of soap over it, but she didn't so much as flinch, her mind elsewhere.

Liara had been acting strangely these past few days, even before her collapse, and that was troubling considering the scientist was usually quite dependable. Would it be too forward if she asked what was going on? Liara was someone she could consider a friend, after all. Her intelligence and steadfast loyalty made her irreplaceable.

When she returned to her room, a towel wrapped snugly around her, Shepard was slightly surprised to see that her bed was empty and neatly made. She reached out and found the bedspread was still warm, resisting the urge to climb in and getting dressed instead.

* * *

"There you are; good as new. And thank you for coming to see me before it worsened significantly."

"Mhm…"

"Liara told me you two are heading out today."

"Did she?"

Dr. Michel stared until finally Shepard asked, "When did she come by?"

"This morning. Between you and I, she's had trouble sleeping. She seemed to have has a little more success last night, so I told her to keep doing whatever it was she did."

Shepard pretended not to notice the pointed look she received.

* * *

After donning their suits, Shepard and Liara boarded the one-man craft the scientist had lovingly dubbed "Discovery." It wasn't until they were actually inside the ship that Shepard realized their proximity: there wasn't room to turn around, much less to do anything but half-crouch behind the pilot's chair.

"Are you sure you don't want to share the seat?" Liara asked.

Not if it meant basically sitting in the other woman's lap.

"It's a short distance."

The planet that loomed before them was one-fourth the size of Earth and its high mineral content had washed its entire surface with red. Liara had hypothesized that desert planets with their high temperatures, more intense sunlight, and lack of obscuring foliage were their best bet.

That narrowed down their list of possible places to a whopping 13 planets.

The scientist had also charted out an area around 1200km across where the terrain would expedite any sort of electronically sent message. She wasn't one to leave room for error and her attention detail was admirable.

"Brace yourself for atmospheric entry."

Their landing was surprisingly smoother after the initial and violent jarring, and Shepard was only a little unsteady when she took her first step onto solid land. The ventilator on her suit kicked into high gear and a toxicity warning flashed across the front of her visor, reminding her that they had a limited amount of time to linger here.

"This way, Commander."

...

Shepard had to admit, it was to just be along for the ride rather than the leader of the expedition for once and, while they had come away empty-handed, it had still been strangely enjoyable to have some 1-on-1 time with her subordinate.

There was something strangely endearing about the dejected slump of the Asari's shoulders. "Maybe next time."

There was something... unnerving about the grateful smile that curved the Asari's lips. "Yes… Next time."

"Next time" didn't happen on the next planet, while trudging through what turned out to be quicksand nor did when the duo outran a feral feline creature. It didn't happen on Gamma 7, where the air was so acidic that entry had actually peeled off the fresh coat of paint Liara had toiled to apply and it definitely didn't happen when the seismic activity of Celestia Beta nearly swallowed them and the ship whole!

Shepard exhaled slowly, gritting her teeth against the sting of the antiseptic Dr. Michel dabbed against her collar. That damn cat had a slow-acting poison in its razor sharp claws, apparently, and she was beginning to feel the effects now. Partial paralysis was "a lucky outcome" according to the good doctor.

Yeah, well, tell that to her oddly heavy limbs and tingling extremities.

To make matters worse that tingle was reaching up her neck, making her speech slow and clumsy.

"Commander, you have an incoming transmission from the Galactic Council."

 _Fantastic._

The starmap in Navigation had been replaced with the holograph of a Turian diplomat. It was with no small amount of difficulty that Shepard saluted her superior.

"Commander Shepard, it's come to my attentions that you're leaving a trail of destruction in your wake. Where exactly are you bound?"

She gritted her teeth. "I'm sure that's none of your business, Councilor Sparatus. I'm not currently operating under Council orders."

"No, of course you aren't." His snide tone made her bristle, but she managed to hold her tongue. Her brow was too stiff to furrow in any case. "Just know that I've got my eye on you. Spectre."

Her trigger finger would have twitched had it been able to. Or had it? She couldn't tell… She really needed to sit down. "Will that be all, sir?"

"For now."

The room when dark and Shepard slumped into the nearest chair, her vision swimming. She tried to reach her comm link, but her limbs felt like lead. Perhaps Dr. Michel had been wrong about the severity of the poison? Perhaps-

The pneumatic hiss of a door opening interrupted her thoughts and a croak escaped her throat as she tried to desperately get the other person's attention.

"Is someone in here?" She heard a woman's voice ask through the haze that descended over her frantic mind. "Shepard?" As she sank into a wave of darkness, she... swore she heard— "MAI!"

A hand caressed her cheek, warm and slow. Shepard screwed her eyes shut, forcing her breathing to remain even though her instincts pumped adrenaline through her system. She could vaguely hear Dr. Michel's voice, but she couldn't make out what was being said. The other—the hair-stroker—responded in kind, but the gentle motion didn't cease.

The rapid beeping of a heart monitor pierced through the veil of disorientation and she realized pretending to be unconscious would do her no good. When she opened her eyes, the hand withdrew and she was face-to-face with Liara.

"You're awake." Relief made her eyes glassy.

 _…?_ How long had she been out?

"It seems I misjudged the toxin's strength." Dr. Michel said. "A strand managed to survive the antitoxin and mutated, attaching itself to your red blood cells and wreaking havoc on your nervous system. Can you feel this?"

Had she not seen Dr. Michel pinch her thigh, she wouldn't have known it had happened.

Wait…

"Where is my suit?" Almond shaped eyes darted about, but there was nothing within reach to rectify semi-nudity.

"If you'd please answer the question, Commander?"

Liara handed her a thermal blanket and she accepted it gratefully drawing it around her despite the fact that she started perspiring almost immediately. "No."

"Hm… I'll need to run more tests, Commander. I'll need you to stay here overnight."

"Absolutely not."

Thin eyebrows drew together. "And if you go into shock again? Don't be stubborn."

She looked to Liara for help, but the blue-skinned woman was looking down at her hands.

"...It's just one night?"

"And then you're free to get chewed up by some other beast."

Shepard's sigh was acquiescence enough.


	5. Doctor's Orders

**-Doctor's Orders-**

 _I'm going to die._

Liara's temple throbbed as she threw up a hand, palm facing outward, and the biotic affixed to her suit sent out a tendril of blue energy that yanked a heavy metal crate into the line of enemy fire not a split second too soon. The cacophony the rain of bullets created made her head hurt for an entirely different reason, but the pain was eclipsed by the panicked repetition of that despairing sentiment.

She was quite literally trapped between a rock and a hard place, her back pressed against the sheer face of a rocky outcrop as she tried to make herself as small a target as possible.

 _This was a stupid idea. Why didn't I wait for Shepard?_ The Commander always had a strategy. Nothing ruffled her feathers, no matter how dire, and nothing in the known universe could have had her pinned like this. _If I make it out of this, I'm going to give that woman a medal._ She deserved it, after all, for her impeccable leadership and boundless charisma. That and she was the single luckiest individual Liara had ever met. Everything just working out when Mai Shepard was involved.

(Liara, respond.) Tali's voice came over their comm link, accompanied by the distant sounds of gunfire (Liara?)

She gathered her wits, she managed a quick affirmation that almost sounded calm and collected.

(We're coming. Sit tight.)

What had possessed her to charge ahead anyway? Sure, Ashley's speech about how "totally awesome" the Commander was had inspired some ugly and unfamiliar feelings, but that wasn't reason enough to forge ahead into unfamiliar territory without her guard raised...right?

Liara gritted her teeth and rested the barrel of her [pistol] atop the crate. She fired a few rounds blindly and was gratified by a cry of pain, but that small victory was short-lived as their attackers redoubled their fire.

( _Please_ hurry.)

Liara turned to return fire again and her blood ran cold when she came face-to-barrel with a firearm. The suit of the individual that held it didn't give away any defining details like race or gender, but his or her resolute stance made the intent to harm crystal clear.

"No…" Her weapon, clattered to the ground and per her attacker's sharp gestures with the guns barrel, she rose slowly from her crouched position. There were four others, all in the same suits, and the sixth who she had shot was laid out flat, green blood a sticky pool below. Their guns were trained on her leaving no room for a daring escape attempt.

Not that her adrenaline-addled mind would be capable of coming up with one of those. There was movement in her peripheral vision and her gaze went back to the person standing closest to her; she was startled and slightly nauseated to find that the front of her helmet had been splattered with green. As the body crumpled bonelessly, Liara ducked-and just in time as another burst of fire followed the death of the squad's member. She managed to reclaim her gun and opened fire as well, but Tali's sniper rifle make quick work of the remaining opposition.

(Are you okay, Liara?)

The scientist was glad she was already flat on the ground because the concern in Tali's voice was enough to remind her trembling knees that she had almost been killed and they were no longer able to support her weight.

(Get me out of here.)

* * *

Funny thing about adrenaline: once it fades and the body finally embraces the reality of things, _everything_ hurts.

When Liara reported to the Med Bay to fetch a roll of gauze to tic off her forearm, where she'd been clipped—multiple times apparently—by stray bullets, she was somewhat surprised to find out Shepard had obediently stayed put. Michel was nowhere to be seen, however, which left the Asari to her own devices.

She tried to rummage quietly so as not to awaken the sleeping Commander, but Shepard's eyes opened regardless and they seemed to zero in on the bloodied sleeve of her combat suit.

"What happened?"

"I was too hasty. It's just a scratch."

Her assurance apparently wasn't satisfactory because Shepard was by her side in the next instant, taking Liara's arm firmly and inspecting it.

"You dispatched with Ashley and Tali?" Her disapproving tone earned a questioning look and she continued, "I would have thought you'd take Wrex or Garrus with you because you need the extra muscle."

Why would she have thought that? The Commander herself was usually the third member of their party, so Ashley had seemed like a logical substitute.

"Anyway, how did it go?"

"Not great." Her head still hurt, a dull pounding at her temple. "We were ambushed by the locals while searching what I thought to be an abandoned worksite." She tried not to fidget, hyper aware of the touch despite its methodical nature. "Where is Doctor Michel?"

"She stepped out." Shepard released her and went over to the medical cabinet where, after a moment of consideration, she procured a first aid kit. She cut away Liara's sleeve and wiped the blood away with a disinfectant wipe, the sting of the purifying nanites revealing that the wound was deeper than she had first thought. "Hm…"

Liara shivered as bare hands touched her freshly cleaned skin. "Thank you, Commander."

"Don't mention it."

A bandage and a final pat and she were free to go, but she didn't move. So long as Shepard's skin touched hers, she couldn't break free of a paralytic sense of happiness.

She wracked her mind desperately for a subject that would make her brain shift gears. Shepard stepped away from her and the task became that much easier. "How are you feeling?"

"Stiff." She stowed the unused supplies in their proper places.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is the poison still lingering in your system?"

Shepard scoffed, "I miss my bed. These cots are terrible."

Yes, the Commander's bed was quite comfortable and she could confirm that.

Liara cleared her throat. "I-I imagine so." It had only been two nights, but it seemed the stubborn woman was at her limit. "I'm not medical doctor, but you seem fine to me."

"Good enough for me."

Before she could ask the woman what she meant by that, Shepard rose. "Let's go."

 _Go? Go where?_ Liara wondered, following obediently.

* * *

The shooting range - she should have known. Wrex was there per usual, a heavy rifle in his hands. He nodded to acknowledge them before turning and obliterating a metal target with white hot plasma. They spent the rest of the evening there, chatting amicably and opening fire on targets.

At some point, Ashley joined them, setting up her gear in the last lane furthest from the doorway, though she didn't spend much time in it.

"Commander, it's good to see you up and about!" Liara frowned at the way the dark-haired young woman jostled Shepard playfully, but turned her gaze back to her target. She only half heard Shepard's response over her shots.

"No way, me too!" Ashley said, loud enough to draw the Asari's attention. "I've been having the weirdest dreams." She lowered her voice, but only a little, and said in a stage whisper, "Okay, more like _hottest_ dreams, but still. I haven't had one of those in forever."

Shepard looked uncomfortable, which was understandable given the subject, but she nodded.

"Yeah. I'm totally nude and I can't see the other person, but they, like, rock my world."

Shepard crossed her arms, her expression uneasy, but she nodded again. Liara stopped what she was doing, her interest piqued.

"Holy crap. That can't be a coincidence," Ashley said.

"Maybe. Have you had any changes in diet or routine recently?"

"Nope. Same old, same old." Her gaze flicked to Liara. "Hey, Liara, have you had any weird dreams lately?"

"Quite the opposite. I've had trouble sleeping at all."

"Hm." The young woman rounded on Shepard and began questioning her again, the answers she received ranging from silent nods to half-shrugs. Every so often, Liara would rescue her momentarily by diverting Ashley's attention, which earned a small smile from the diminutive Asian woman.

It wasn't until much later that Liara, unable to keep her eyes open, bid her shipmates goodnight.

* * *

Despite how bone weary she had been when she had drifted off, Liara awoke a few hours later, her heart racing. The restless energy that had been plaguing her drove her from her bed and she began to pace.

 _/ Keep doing whatever it is that you're doing to help you sleep, Liara." Michel gave her a knowing look over her glasses. "And remember, the Consort Chambers are always an option if it becomes too much." /_

She had slept like a baby surrounded by Commander Shepard's scent. There was no if's, and', or but's about it. Never mind that she had disturbed to privacy of a very private woman and inadvertently driven her from her own bed.

Part of her felt guilty about it and that part kept her here in her own room. The other part...

Liara glanced at the door, her pacing slowing to a halt. The other part of her selfishly wondered why they couldn't just share the space. They were both women, shipmates, and dare she say friends? So what would be the big deal anyway?

There wasn't one.

Liara lifted her hand, fingers curling into a fist, but she hesitated before knocking. It was late. Shepard was an important, not to mention busy, woman and therefore shouldn't be bothered. Before her conscience could usher her back to her room, Shepard's door slid open with a pneumatic hiss and the room's owner emerged, her chest making solid contact with Liara's half-curled fingers. For her part, she didn't seem surprised, though she did look down at the Asari's hand for a moment before inquiring, "Couldn't sleep?"

She shook her head rapidly, retrieving her hand as though she had been burned. She didn't even want to consider what the warm mounds beneath that skin tight suit looked like. Not one bit.

"Me neither."

Silence settled between them got a heartbeat too long and it took everything within Liara not to blurt out an apology and make a run for it. Finally, Shepard stepped aside and gestured Liara into her room.

...

In the quiet darkness, Liara could hear every shift; every breath; every soft, adorable snore. Shepard's back was to her and, in the cramped confines of her smallish bed, that meant the rounded curve of her ass was pressing directly against Liara's thigh.

This was the big deal.

She bit her lip, wishing desperately that she had the courage to shift just the few inches it would take to spoon snugly against the other woman. Instead, she resigned to the nigh impossible task of calming her frazzled nerves.

Liara heard the Commander mutter something under her breath and a moment later, the woman rolled over and latched onto her impromptu bedmate.

 _Oh good heavens_...

She couldn't breathe. She dared not breathe-not when the revered commander of the Normandy was nuzzling the hollow of her throat and strong arms made her into a teddy bear. A minute passed and then another. A third crept by with excruciating slowness and it was only then that Liara managed to find the nerve to return the sleeping woman's embrace.

 _Go to sleep_.

The hand she had rested on Shepard's waist dipped lower, following the curve of her hip.

 _Go to sleep..._

Dark, silky locks tickled her nose. Would it be strange to stroke it?

 _Go to sleep!_

Liara fidgeted, her heart in her throat. Now that things were quiet, her mind chose that very moment to process the events of the day: not only had she nearly gotten shot, she had also failed to find even traces of evidence that would support her research. And the clock was ticking. She was thankful that the Commander had humoured her, but this venture was beginning to feel like a waste of precious time and resources. A sigh left the woman and she slumped, burying her face in Shepard's shoulder.

Despite her disparaging thoughts, she couldn't help but notice how good the other woman smelled.

Ugh.

If she hadn't already been utterly exhausted, she would have slipped outside and paced the hall. Instead, she continued to fidget—though not too much as not to disturb her bedmate—and deny her baser instincts the satisfaction of mapping out the curves that were hugged lovingly by a sleep suit.

"Go to sleep, Liara."

The command was said aloud by a voice husky with sleep and the Asari started, jerking back so quickly that her head hit the wall behind her with a painful 'thud.'

"Are you okay?" Despite herself, there was a touch of amusement in the woman's voice and she touched the crown of Liara's head gently, eliciting a pained whimper. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"I suppose we're even then, because I didn't mean to wake you." She almost patted herself on the back for managing an even tone.

Shepard didn't move her hand away, rubbing in soothing circles. "Trouble sleeping still?"

"Mhm."

"Anything I can do to help?"

Several less than appropriate solutions came to mind and Liara didn't realize she'd been projecting them until the woman gasped—a breathy, excited sound. The hand that had been petting the crown of her head slid down, gripping her nape and drawing her in until their faces were mere inches apart.

Oh... Goodness gracious...

Shepard blinked slowly, as though awakening from slumber a second time, her confused expression barely visible in the faint glow of the overhead lights. "I don't... Are you...?" She trailed off, seemingly uncertain of what she was trying to communicate herself, then seemed to give up, settling on, "You're a little pale. Are you okay?"

Pale? The word sent a warning flag up, but the Asari found her body wouldn't cooperate, her gaze fixed on the brunette's face. The edges of her vision blurred and the light at the end of that optical tunnel was Shepard's dazed expression.

"Liara?" It sounded muffled, far away; the hot pulse at her temple made it difficult to hear.

When the overhead light flickered on at full brightness, Liara recoiled and she heard Shepard gasp. "Your eyes..."

Her eyes? What about her eyes? It took no small amount of effort to close them and when she did, heat built behind her eyelids.

There was a flurry of movement, then a small, still eternity during which Liara massaged her temples in an attempt to alleviate the pressure building therein. When a cool hand cupped her cheek, guiding her gaze to kindly blue eyes, the Asari trembled like a leaf.

"I hate to say 'I told you so,'" Dr. Michel remarked, her tone a few shades too husky to be casual.

"What's going on?" Shepard, too, sounded breathless in a way that had nothing to do with her mad dash to fetch the other woman.

Liara blinked, lowering her gaze to her lap, and it was then that she saw her hands were pale blue. If that were the case, then she could only assume that her eyes were dark as night. Had she really allowed herself to get so far out of control that she had inadvertently resorted to—

"Subconscious manipulation," Dr. Michel was explaining. "The Asari race are masters—or mistresses, rather?—of affecting desires through telekinesis.

"Liara?" Now Shepard just sounded shocked-not appalled, but genuinely surprised.

"She's not to blame. As her species matures, they undergo "puberty" just as any human female."

Abject mortification made Liara miss the rest of what was said and she sat there, staring blankly and trying to keep her mind empty until a firm, gentle hand prodded her to stand.

"We're taking you to the Citadel."

She shook her head stubbornly, but neither woman paid her any mind as she was half carried to her room.

...

 ***Incoming transmission from Dr. Karin Chakwas***

["How are things? I apologize for not being able to call until now."]

"Where to start?"

["Oh dear."] Laughter. ["I warned you that my little crew was a full time job."]

"Liara's in heat."

["Oh?"] The lack of surprise in her tone was just a little vexing. ["Have the others-"]

"Just Shepard as far as I know. And... Myself. For just a bit."

["How was it?]" She sounded intrigued. ["I've been told it's like losing yourself to your baser instincts."]

"I don't know about all of that. You'll have to ask Shepard; I just got caught in the crossfire."

A scoff. ["Shepard's so tightly wound, she'd never share something like that. So what happened exactly?"]

"I'm not entirely sure. Like I said, Liara has been manipulating Shepard, but unconsciously from what I understand."

["How could that be?"] It was said in a mutter, as though she was consulting herself, and there was the shuffling of papers. ["Pale skin, black eyes?"]

"Frighteningly so."

["And the two haven't... Had relations, have they?"]

"How the hell would I know?"

["Okay, okay. I'll have to pick their brains myself."] More rustling. ["I'm assuming you've separated them."]

"Yes. We're on our way back to the Citadel–to the Consort Chambers."

["Nonsense. I'm sending you my coordinates. Bring Liara to me."]

"Now?"

["I don't see why not."]

A sigh. "Shepard won't like this."

["She won't. But just wait until you've seen what I've discovered."]

 ***End transmission***


End file.
